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sev_ensnared_mirrorSeverus has not had much time to think since the new year started. Or even since before Christmas. More memories have joined the few extremely personal ones in the pensieve, while he has been in the presence of his one remaining master. Memories he should consider... events that have changed things, turned so much upside down.
Now, as he sits down with a soft sigh, finally home again - if it can be called home in any way - he knows he will have to put those memories back. The stone basin, standing so innocently on a shelf, a silvery cloth covering the top half of it, beckons him.
Severus rises from the chair and walks over to the pensieve. The cloth is smooth and heavy, sliding off the basin with a small rustle. For a moment he merely looks at the liquid swirling lazily around, the silver of memories glowing subtly.
A small practised wave of his wand is enough, the long string easy to extract ... and re-implant, in his mind. In a flash, the memory plays before his inner eye, disturbing, upsetting, alluring, arousing... Remus and Kirill. Severus blinks out of it and replaces the cloth over the basin.
Sitting back down in his chair, it surprises him how utterly clear that memory is, defying the normal haze usually attached to drunken recollections.
Were you truly drunk, or were you decieving yourself?
It also startles him, how much it emphasises much of what has changed in his life this past year. How much he's thought he's remained the same, all the while changing far more than he can comprehend.
And it's all centered around Remus.
Albus too, to a certain degree, forcing Severus into the role as the hunted, the traitor, the murderer... A situation that in turn has forced him out of the small comfortable box that had been his life. Had torn that small box to pieces, and left him floundering with only two fixed points in his life.
Remus and the mission.
And while time passes without change to the mission, without development... everything concerning Remus has shifted. Grown intenser and deeper, a love he no longer tries to question, a passion he needs, a man he no longer can be without.
A possessive jealousy, that is still strong but has somehow morphed into something he can't understand, no matter how deep inside himself he looks.
He needs to speak with Remus about this. And Kirill... Needs to understand what has happened.
Wordcount: 403
Now, as he sits down with a soft sigh, finally home again - if it can be called home in any way - he knows he will have to put those memories back. The stone basin, standing so innocently on a shelf, a silvery cloth covering the top half of it, beckons him.
Severus rises from the chair and walks over to the pensieve. The cloth is smooth and heavy, sliding off the basin with a small rustle. For a moment he merely looks at the liquid swirling lazily around, the silver of memories glowing subtly.
A small practised wave of his wand is enough, the long string easy to extract ... and re-implant, in his mind. In a flash, the memory plays before his inner eye, disturbing, upsetting, alluring, arousing... Remus and Kirill. Severus blinks out of it and replaces the cloth over the basin.
Sitting back down in his chair, it surprises him how utterly clear that memory is, defying the normal haze usually attached to drunken recollections.
Were you truly drunk, or were you decieving yourself?
It also startles him, how much it emphasises much of what has changed in his life this past year. How much he's thought he's remained the same, all the while changing far more than he can comprehend.
And it's all centered around Remus.
Albus too, to a certain degree, forcing Severus into the role as the hunted, the traitor, the murderer... A situation that in turn has forced him out of the small comfortable box that had been his life. Had torn that small box to pieces, and left him floundering with only two fixed points in his life.
Remus and the mission.
And while time passes without change to the mission, without development... everything concerning Remus has shifted. Grown intenser and deeper, a love he no longer tries to question, a passion he needs, a man he no longer can be without.
A possessive jealousy, that is still strong but has somehow morphed into something he can't understand, no matter how deep inside himself he looks.
He needs to speak with Remus about this. And Kirill... Needs to understand what has happened.
Wordcount: 403
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Date: 2006-02-07 02:03 am (UTC)He wants Remus to stay. Needs this contact so much it's unsettling. And good.
Then Severus suddenly finds himself carried, as ever baffled at Remus' strength and the strength of the desire he can see in his lover's eyes. He returns the kiss with fervour, meeting Remus' tongue, stroking, tasting, loving. There's something liberating about allowing himself to be carried like this.
Swept away.
Something beyond his tight control. He doesn't need the control though, not here, not now.
Severus looks up at Remus from his position on the bed, watching silently as his lover's body is slowly revealed. Beautiful. His.
"Mine," he says in an echo of Remus' earlier words.
He undresses as well, discarding the clothes on the floor.
"Come here," Severus looks intently up into Remus' eyes.